


Start Again

by Scummy



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, M/M, Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-03 01:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scummy/pseuds/Scummy
Summary: The sentiment was nice, but unwelcomed. He didn't need those petty reassurances when the one he battled the most with was himself. Saeyoung could hug him close, sobbing, trying to explain the ways he loved him, but the whispers in Saeran's head would work twice as fast to convince himself otherwise.Stifling a groan, especially once the topic switches to something you and Yoosung had done together, Saeran tries to stomach another bite of dinner. This step was always drawn out, but if he could bear it for just a little longer, he could escape to his room. Try to read, or sleep, oranythingto forget about the two of you together.------A fic for Honeyjarr on tumblr!





	Start Again

**Author's Note:**

> Just real quick to avoid reader confusion:  
> This is set after Yoosung's route, with Saeran being fully rescued and pretty much just. Seven's route and Yoosung's combined. Hope that makes sense.

         No matter how hard he tried, the nauseous waves in his stomach wouldn't go away. They never did, not when the four of you were sitting for a shitty ‘family’ dinner, all giggles and kisses while he was left ignored. Saeyoung always tried to include him, but Saeran’s stubbornness was too strong for his own good. Forcing him to breach his realm of comfort would just leave harsh words lingering around Saeyoung for days, and as easy as the insults slipped from Saeran's mouth, he hated falling down the path of instability again.

         A path that was constantly welcoming Saeran with open arms when you and Yoosung came over.

         Small visits he could handle. It was easy to get sucked into a movie, or strictly focus on whatever video game was on. Even more so when Yoosung was beside him, perfectly blocking out the view of you. Those were easier days, where he could pretend your voice was coming from somewhere else, that Yoosung was calling him pet names and handing out compliments. Worse case scenario, he would go into his room, burying himself under covers until sleep or news that the two of you had left came in.

         But this situation? The one his brother was constantly putting him in? Insufferable. There was no escape. Complaining of a stomach issue too often could just land him a private doctor visit, constantly going into his room would tip his brother off- not  _ eating _ would freak him out even more. Saeran was often left with just awkwardly chowing down as much as he could to faster excuse himself, praying that hearing Yoosung's laughter from down the hall wouldn't cause his anxieties to spill from his stomach again.

         It wasn't as if his uncomfortableness wasn't clear. He caught Saeyoung’s worried looks during dinner, and even yours if his silence was especially bad. There was a constant sequence of events for nights like these. Saeran would cook, putting too much thought into what Yoosung and his brother would enjoy the most, disregarding you and himself all together. Once cooking was done and he had plated everything,  _ then _ he would allow everyone to come into the kitchen, his personal quiet time over. He would ignore you the best he could, trying to discreetly watch Yoosung's reactions to the food and keeping all the compliments he was given in mind, while Saeyoung would annoyingly try to start a conversation they could all join in about.

         Saeran didn't want to talk during dinner. He never did- He just wanted to eat and flee as fast as he could, but Saeyoung was trying to make him normal. Trying to get Saeran to have friends, to understand that Yoosung didn't hate him, that no one hated him.

         The sentiment was nice, but unwelcomed. He didn't need those petty reassurances when the one he battled the most with was himself. Saeyoung could hug him close, sobbing, trying to explain the ways he loved him, but the whispers in Saeran's head would work twice as fast to convince himself otherwise.

         Stifling a groan, especially once the topic switches to something you and Yoosung had done together, Saeran tries to stomach another bite of dinner. This step was always drawn out, but if he could bear it for just a little longer, he could escape to his room. Try to read, or sleep, or  _ anything _ to forget about the two of you together.

         As he debates on how much food he could discard without his brother noticing, unwelcome memories of when Yoosung had started dating you flit into his mind as he lazily glances at the two of you. The chatrooms then were filled of the two of you shyly exchanging gentle ‘I love you’s, and it seemed like Saeran’s reluctance to log in was accounted to him being disgusted by lovestruck fools. His brother didn't nag him about it at first, but as his irritability with the chatroom lasted longer than a few weeks, Saeyoung had kept gently pushing him to log in at least two times a day. Just enough to show the other members that he was well enough to log in.

         But if he wasn't to begin with, why bother? That was generally Saeran's thoughts as he did what his brother asked, typing in short greetings and farewells within minutes of each other. As your relationship progressed with Yoosung, the two of you had been bolder in your cheesiness in the chat, and each time he had logged in his stomach churned.

         What would it have been like to be on the receiving end of those lines? To look in the chatroom and see sappy confessions of love meant for him?

         Those days he had felt alone again. Saeyoung was there, even when Saeran didn't want him to be, but the difficulty of opening up had been too strong. It still was too strong, as Saeran had to throw countless excuses to his brother every time he felt his mood drop. Excuses like the ones he was debating on now.

         Saeran ends up looking from his plate to the two of you, catching his jealousy in full force as he sees the soft smile on Yoosung’s lips after the two of you break apart, faces dusted with pink whereas Saeran feels his heart sink. Everything slows down as he watches you cup Yoosung’s cheek, gently nudging the frames of his glasses.

         With a sudden start, Saeran pushes his plate away and stands, rattling the chair with his clumsiness. The chatter instantly stops, and amid his feelings of discomfort, he can feel his intestines clench. Despite not meeting everyone's gazes, he knows that fearful pity is in their eyes.

         Maybe even disgust.

         “Saeran?”

         Saeran sniffs, rubbing the back of his neck while staring at his feet, unable to look towards Saeyoung when his voice is so full of worry.

         “I had a lot of sweets earlier, this is just going to make me sick to my stomach if I keep eating.”

         “Ah…”

         The awkward silence starts to stretch, and he finds himself counting five long seconds before speaking again, feeling safe from any nagging to see a doctor.

         “I’m going to my room,” His words come out shaky, making him mentally curse at himself. “Night.”

         He doesn’t wait for any response before turning on his heel, quickly padding off to his room. 

         By the time he’s closed the door, Saeran’s heartbeat is pounding in his ears, lungs struggling to take in oxygen as his hands stay splayed on the wood of his door.

         How long was he supposed to deal with this? His therapist told him that eventually, this would all just be a memory on the well walked path of recovery, but each visit with you just made the end seem more bleary.

         Taking in what air he can muster, he manages to move his numb limbs to his bed, burying himself under the covers hazily.

         Time seems to stand still as he focuses on breathing, feeling the threading of his blanket, counting what he can. It’s all a failed attempt to ground himself. Every time he’s so close to calming the quake in his bones, images of Yoosung happily holding your hand flit into his mind, along with scenes of him kissing you, being so obviously enamoured- All of it hits before he can finish a breath. 

         The movie playing in his mind doesn’t stop, even when he tries to refocus his thoughts. It just keeps playing, showing what he can’t have repeatedly, over and over again. Again and again until he’s shoving his face against the mattress, trying to stop his throat from closing up like it’s begging to do.

         There's nothing more that he hates than crying. His mother mocked him for it, the Savior-  _ Rika _ continuously pointed it out as a major flaw, he knew it made him weak. He knew that with tears staining his cheeks, no one would take him seriously.

         But in this moment, plagued with a whirlwind of emotions after such a stressful week of failed healing attempts, it’s the only thing that helps relieve his ache.

         The sobs are quiet at first. Just soft huffs as his body started to quiver, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he debates on if he's ready to give into such an old habit, then they grow louder. Not loud enough for anyone outside of his room to hear, but just audible enough for his self-hatred to grasp into him tighter, to further encourage the unstoppable barrage of negative thoughts wracking his brain.

         He’s slowly moving through the steps towards a panic attack. His body is rigid, breathing is difficult, it hurts to open his eyes. The most he can do right now is breathe, breathe and clutch his pillow tight as his heartbeat grows louder in his ears.

         Then, someone's knocking at his door.

         Suddenly the breathing stops, and now he’s too fearful to take in another breath despite his lungs starting to scream for him to. The fear of being caught travels up his spine, as if he was back at that place, forced to find excuses for his tears so  _ she _ wouldn't find out, so he wouldn't be proven a weakened fool again.         

         “Saeran?”

         But it's not another believer. It’s Saeyoung at his door, jiggling the knob slightly as his curiosity grows, and…

         Oh god, it’s Saeyoung.

         The intrusion of his brother is grounding enough to bring him back to reality, but the speed of his heart pounding still hurts, and he just knows it’s going to only go downhill from here. Saeran works on pulling himself up into a sitting position, but his body just won’t cooperate. It takes energy that he somehow doesn’t have despite laying in bed for the majority of the day, causing him to grimmance. 

         Nothing has changed since he was a child…

         “I’m fine,” He calls out, finally at least turned to his side with his voice nothing more than a rough croak. 

         “Saeran…?”

         Of course Saeyoung didn’t hear him. Saeran opens his mouth again, hoping he can be loud enough this time, but he hears the door finally creak open.

         This isn’t what he wanted. Saeran closes his eyes, ready for the barrage of useless questions. ‘Are you okay’, ‘Are you hurt’, ‘Do we need to go back to the hospital’- He’s tired of it, and he does not want to be made out to feel like some skittish animal again.

         “You didn’t answer my texts,” Saeyoung starts, voice noticeably closer. “I was getting a bit worried. Is your stomach that bad?”

         “Just didn’t hear it. It’s on silent.”

         “Ah…”

         “I’m not sick, just-” He sighs, still needing time for himself before starting any long conversations. “I’m tired.”

         Saeyoung stays quiet until Saeran eventually turns onto his back to speak again, still trying to avoid his brother’s gaze.

         “See? I’m fine.” 

         “I’m...a little worried about you, Saeran.”

         “Look, my stomach isn’t that terrible-”

         “No, I know it’s not your stomach,” Saeyoung interrupts, pausing for just a moment before continuing. “Every time they come over, you do this. It’s not the food we’re eating, it’s something else, right?”

         Fucking. God damnit. 

         “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

         “Saeran, I’m not the only one who’s noticed. He’s noticed it too- They both have.”

         “You’re all just worrying about nothing,” He huffs, patience already running thin. “I’m fine, you of all people know I just do this a lot, I’m just tired. I’m exhausted, and being around people just. Makes it worse.”

         “Don’t lie to me, Saeran, please…”

         Frustrated, Saeran sits up, finally looking his brother in the eye.

         “I told you- I’m just fucking tired! That’s it, I’m tired and I just wanted to sleep.”

         Looking Saeyoung in the eye though, seeing the way his brows lift in worry, the way his eyes try scanning Saeran...That wasn’t cutting it. Saeran clenches his jaw, dropping his head and looking away.

         “I just. Want to sleep. That’s it, Saeyoung. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

         But that doesn’t send him away. In fact, he just hears his brother lower his voice, resting on his knees beside the bed.

         “Look- Look at me,” Saeyoung taps Saeran’s knee, trying to make him glance over. When it’s pointed out to be useless, he sighs and continues. “I’ve talked to him about it, you know? We’re not stupid, he knows you beat yourself up about what happened, and you know what he always tells me? You know what he’s been telling me ever since we found out all that happened?”

         “I don’t fucking care-”

         “He doesn’t hate you for it. Every time the subject comes up, he tells me that. He makes it clear. Yoosung doesn’t hate you, and you  _ need  _ to accept that, Saeran.”

         “Yeah, okay, accepted.” Saeran’s being a brat and he knows it, but he can’t hear this right now. Any more of this and he’s just going to end up going past the breaking point again, and he- He can’t do that. Not in front of Saeyoung.

         So he lays back down and turns on his side, facing away, trying to signal to his brother that this conversation was way past over.

         “Saeran-”

         “You’re fucking worrying over nothing, I’m fine.”

         It’s quiet after that, but he knows his brother won’t just leave with that. Saeran isn’t proving his side very well and he knows that, but he’s busy gripping his covers, trying to will the explosive nature away that wants to rip out of him. 

         After a few moments, he feels a weight on the bed as Saeyoung tries to seem comforting by resting his hand on Saeran’s side. Despite the efforts, all Saeran can feel is his guard refusing to drop, making himself hate himself even more.

         They were brothers, yet even after a year he can’t push away a majority of knee-jerk reactions.

         “Please, talk to me. I’m right here.”

         “Yeah,” He responds dryly, not even thinking first. “Right here to tell me what I’m supposedly so upset over.”

         “That’s not it-”

         “Then listen to me when I say I’m not upset over Yoosung’s fucking eye. I’ve been through it, I know the damn process I have to go through, so both of you can relax and leave me alone.”

         Saeran runs his fingers through his hair, as if to brush off his brothers worries. He’s been through this with his therapist, and it's only a matter of time before it comes true. Yoosung doesn't hate him, he knows it, but it's not what he's struggling with tonight even if it does bother him.

         “Then what is wrong? Saeran, I can’t read your mind, you have to tell me.”

         “The fuck I do.”

         “Christ-” Saeyoung cuts himself off, frustrated and obviously struggling not to be upset. Even with the attitude Saeran is giving, he starts to feel guilt pool in his stomach. Opening up shouldn’t be this hard, but here Saeran was, just shoving Saeyoung away like everyone else, too fucking scared to say a word of what went on in his head.

         It takes a while for Saeyoung to speak, and when he does Saeran feels his body tense, unsure of what to expect after barking so much.

         “I don’t want to take you back there, Saeran. God, I don’t want to, and I know you don’t want to, but I need you to talk to me. I can’t just sit here and let you waste away under these covers, thinking that I don’t care- Thinking that you’re fooling me into believing you’re healthy. I don’t want to see my brother like this.”

         Saeyoung’s voice starts to choke up, and Saeran can feel the heat of shame crawl up his back, stinging his jaw and ears. He knew Saeyoung wasn’t an idiot, but…He didn’t want him to notice.

         Maybe Saeran was the idiot.

         “Leaving you in the hospital is the last thing I want, Saeran. You’ve been put in all these cages your whole life, and I don’t want you sentenced to another. Please, please, just talk to me. I’m not going to judge you, I’m not going to scold or shame you, I, I just want to make your life easier.”

         Fuck. Saeyoung’s gotten closer as he was talking, now having an arm wrapped around Saeran’s middle with his face pressed between his shoulders. Saeran’s sure that if he focused, he could feel a wetness there that he’s yet to hear in Saeyoung’s voice, but he can’t bring himself to. Instead he breathes in, shaking as he finally starts letting his walls down again.

         “I’m not trying to hurt you.” He mutters. Small comforts, but he’s praying it helps. “I...I haven’t talked about this with anyone. It’s not just something I do to you. Talking is just….At that place it was discouraged. Every time I opened up I felt worse, I felt small. Pathetic. I don’t want to feel like that anymore.”

         “I promise, it won’t be like that with me. Please, Saeran….I haven’t been able to help you your whole life, please, god, just...Let me help you now.”

         With how quiet his voice is, Saeran knows for sure Saeyoung’s crying, and now he can’t ignore it. He can’t ignore the quivering that’s battling against his own, or the way he’s being pulled tight against his brother, hold too strong to break free from.

         Saeyoung was always the strongest, always smarter, understanding the world more than Saeran.

         So...Maybe, maybe he was right about this. It was possible that opening up wouldn’t hurt as much as it did back then, or come with any ramifications.

         Saeran bites his lip, feeling his shoulders drop as he finally gives in. 

         He knows that, by now, the two of you are gone. Yoosung is probably holding your hand as you drive, explaining that Saeran just needs extra care, and then one day he’ll open up. That he was just still grieving over his past, and how Yoosung wishes he could fix it. That one day in the future, Saeran will be more friendly towards the both of you, and all the problems everyone had faced to get that far would be worth it.

         That one day in the future, Saeran would spend more than a few hours with the two of you without beating himself up over the past he couldn’t change.

         Saeran closes his eyes and rests his head back, battling with his voice.

         “Being in love sucks.”

         To his credit, Saeyoung’s shock isn't voiced. There's a small string of tension, but it melts away as Saeyoung shifts, placing his head against Saeran’s shoulder as he sniffs.

         “Yeah, it does suck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! As a general reminder, especially since this was a fic for a friend (who has already pre-approved this), **I am not accepting any critiques, and If you did not like this or do not like my work in general, please do not leave me comments saying so.**  
>  If you enjoyed this piece, please feel free to check out the other works I have done under my works page on here, and feel free to check out my tumblr, mmscum.tumblr.com, where some old Hc's I've written are stored.  
> Thank you again to Honeyjarr, who is such a wonderful artist that let me write a fic for them! Please check out their work [here](https://honeyjarr.tumblr.com/)! They worked with me on the Saeran zine, and now I'm super excited to see their piece for the mysme [Halloween zine](https://mysmehalloweenzine.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
